The End Has No End
by Eutony
Summary: Rory looked down while he watched her, and read the dedication. 'Nothing felt possible until I met one bibliophilic, audiophilic girl. I love you. I love you. Only you. Always you. Dodger.' Literati Post-Series. Rory and Jess.
1. Chapter 1

_a/n: The title has been taken from The Strokes' song._

_Disclaimer: Creative licence and that._

There are only so many times you can glance at someone when you're not supposed to be looking at them. Eventually, they, or someone else, is going to catch you. This happened around the sixteenth time that Rory's eyes darted across the room, seeking a certain pair of eyes. As she was about to look away, back to her mother and Luke – the people she should have been looking at – the brown eyes she had been searching for focussed back at her. Clichéd as it may have been, everything stilled for what felt like minutes. Everything but her heart thrumming like hummingbird wings inside the cage that was her chest, and her gasps of breaths. She felt sick, breaking the contact, feeling her face flush at being caught watching him. And in her mind's eye, there he was, expressionless and stoic. Cold. Had he been cold? Or had he been white hot?

She focussed back on her mother, laughing at something Babette at said to Luke to make him blush so hard. Rory smiled a bit at the picture, but her nervous heart still made her want to leave the reception until she calmed down.

The cool night time air swept the flush from her cheeks as she leant on the railings of the Dragonfly, careful to stay away from any windows to avoid being seen. She sighed, cursing herself for her impulses and reactions. It had been a long time since she'd seen him – that was all. And the last time … God, the last time …

Rory's blue painted nails dug into the wood of the railings as she clutched at it a little too tight at the memory. She reminded herself that it had been a long time ago. What felt like a lifetime ago, actually. Graduation, two jobs, what felt like a thousand 'moves' (although technically there had only been one – to New York from Stars Hollow, but being on the road for two years was certainly a lot of moving not to count), and four years. And despite the time that had passed, the guilt grappling up from her stomach clutched at her throat when she had seen him. Perhaps it was a feeling she ought to just get used to.

"Hi."

Her heart, in that one syllable, stopped altogether, taking a few seconds to stutter and reverberate back into action, six to the dozen. His voice, barely cutting above the noise of the party behind them, spoke one solitary syllable, and it affected her so strongly. She clenched her eyelids shut in annoyance at herself. More seconds passed without Rory offering a reply, but the man standing behind her said nothing more. Monosyllabic such as his teenage self, it seemed. She swallowed, trying to form a hello from somewhere. She felt him move a little closer to her, and peripherally watched him lean the small of his back against the railing to her left. He wasn't looking at her, rather back into the inn, and the party inside.

Taking a breath, she turned to look at him. Her heart beat a little faster, noting he looked good … His grey suit, identical to Luke's, looked great on him, and otherwise, he just looked healthy. Much better than any time Rory had seen him since he'd left Stars Hollow back when they were eighteen. It made her smile a little, despite her fear.

"Hi," she said, just as quietly.

He didn't turn to look at her, but at her reply, he visibly relaxed. She bit her lip in seeing this, the smile slipping from her face. "You look amazing, Rory." He said this, still looking away from her. His words made her heart jump once more. He had never complimented her in such a way before … She couldn't remember a time …

"My Mom made my dress. Of course, on my Grandma's instruction that she made one of her wedding colours blue, so that it went with _my_ eyes. Of course, what Grandma forgot was that it's Mom's eyes, too. So really-"

"You're nervous," he stated over the top of the beginnings of her babble. She stopped talking, looking back out at the dimly lit landscaping of the Dragonfly Inn. He leaned a little towards her, stuffing his hands in his pant pockets, and saying mockingly, "By 'you look amazing', I didn't mean, who picked out the colour of dress you're wearing. I can be frank and tell you what I really meant by it, if you want. If you ask nicely." He leant away again, and she could feel her face heat up once more. He was mocking her, like back when they were kids. She forced herself not to remember why he did this. At her silence, Jess sighed, shifting, uncomfortable again. "Sorry. Trying to ease the weirdness, but that's clearly not going to work."

"Probably not," Rory replied quietly, smiling a little. Jess eased at her side again, watching her avoid eye contact with him.

"How's life then, _cuz_?" he teased, nudging her with his shoulder to her bare arm. She glared at him and his eyes danced with laughter. "Not going to work either, huh? Geez," he joked. "You've gotten difficult in your advancing age, Gilmore."

"Advancing age, huh?" Rory replied archly. Jess just smirked. "Life is fine."

"Just fine?"

His question jarred her, and she looked at him again. "Life is good," she corrected, a little unsure.

He nodded vaguely – a little disbelievingly, perhaps, saying, "Okay." Rory was glaring again, and he smirked once more. "So, why are you out here?"

"Just needed a little air," Rory answered quickly. Jess nodded again, looking at his feet. "Why are you out here?"

"I followed you." His frank answer was not what Rory was expecting.

She blurted, "_Why_?" He smiled, stuffing his hands further into his pockets, shrugging. Rory rolled her eyes. "Nice to see you haven't changed, Jess." His eyes turned on her in surprise, but he offered nothing in response. They fell into silence, but Rory didn't regret her words. He was being intentionally inflammatory to get a rise out of her. His endgame, Rory did not know, but she knew she wouldn't – no, couldn't – play to his tune. His behaviour as a teenager was just the same, and that hadn't won either of them any trophies. And she knew what his game had been _then_. The teasing and the banter … it had all been flirting. Probably flirting wasn't the best idea for them.

It is what it is. You … me …

Her breath stuttered as she remembered his words in Philadelphia. Unfortunately, Jess noticed this reaction. "Sorry," he said simply. Rory could feel the weight of this word coming from Jess' lips, different from the same expression only moments before. Despite not knowing what she had just been thinking, Jess seemed to guess that it was caused by something to do with him. The noticing was not new – Jess had always been able to read Rory as easily as the countless books they both loved. The apology was, though. Without the sarcastic tone, it sounded wrong on his tongue.

"Just remembering," she offered pointlessly.

"I know," he said, and he did know. The pain in his eyes told her as much.

"I should …" she said, motioning behind her vaguely, meaning she should go back to the Wedding. His fingers closed gently around her wrist for a second, though. He immediately let go when her eyes found his.

"I … can we talk later?" he asked, but looked like he was internally chastising himself. "It's just … It's weird, isn't it? Us not having spoken for so long? I want to talk. Properly."

Rory nodded, silently, in answer to his request. Before turning back towards the door of the inn. Before closing the door behind her, she softly said, "I've missed you too, Dodger."

-break-

"Sweetie, you look sad," her Mom said, looking at her daughter worriedly, plunking down beside her at the head table where Rory had stayed since she returned from outside several hours later, resolutely staying away from the dance floor.

Rory shook her head, forcing a smile, looking up at her mother. "Nope. I'm not sad."

"Rory," she said in a knowing tone. Rory shook her head again, but the fake smile did slip a little.

"Sorry, Mom. I don't want to ruin your day."

"He phoned Luke yesterday," she said, watching him dance with Liz across the room. His Mom was laughing, and he was smiling a little at her. "And Luke passed me the phone. He was concerned about coming."

Rory looked at her Mom, surprised. "He agreed to be Best Man months ago."

Lorelai nodded, "Yeah, he did. I guess the closer the Wedding came, the more he was thinking about the fallout. He was worried that you might hate him. We had a very long chat about that, actually. The reasons why you _should_." Rory groaned, leaning her head on the table in front of her. "Mostly, though, he wanted to know whether he should have dragged one of his friends' girlfriend's and pretend he was in a long-term relationship with her."

Rory looked up at her Mom's smirking face. "He didn't actually say that, did he?"

"Not in so many words." Rory rolled her eyes. "He did ask if you were still with Logan, though. Or, how did he put it?"

"'The blonde dick with a Porshe'?"

"I think his version was a little more colourful. But yeah, along those lines," Lorelai smirked, slipping her shoes off with a sigh. "I told him to ask you, anyway. Has the little punk dared speak to you, yet?"

Rory nodded, "Yeah. Outside. Barely. It's been so long, Mom, but it's still Jess. How is he still the same?"

"Is he?" her Mom asked, leading. "Maybe you should dance with him."

Rory shook her head, glaring at her Mom. "Why would you even suggest that? You hate Jess."

"Of course I don't. I hated _Logan_. Jess was just an irritation. Like Dermatitis. Scabies. But anyway, he's my nephew now. Families forgive and forget – and itch like hell."

"Oh, ew," Rory exclaimed, screwing up her nose distastefully.

"The reason I suggested it is because he's coming over," Lorelai said, standing from her seat and winking to someone behind her, before skipping off, bare feet and all, back to Luke who was now dancing with Liz. Rory stilled as someone came to a stop behind her.

"Your Mom just winked at me. That was disturbing." A nervous bubble of laughter rose up Rory's throat, and she turned to face him as he sat in the adjacent seat. "Wow, that was an interesting laugh," he told her, smirking. "Do I make you that uncomfortable?"

"Just taken by surprise."

He let that slide, but his face was disbelieving. "What was your Mom saying?"

She shrugged. "When does anyone ever know what my Mom says?"

"You always do. You're the same person," he said seriously. Rory shrugged, struggling. Jess sighed. "Liz told me to come over. Said you looked lonely."

"I wasn't alone," she suggested.

He rolled his eyes at her. "Yeah, I know. I think they've been talking about us. Sisters-in-law now, you know. Luke better watch out." Jess had been playing with a candle the entire time, tipping it so that the wax tipped over the edge, running down the side, and pooling on the holder. "Conspiring this early on is probably a bad sign." Rory stared at him, confused. Conspiring? Her Mom always hated the thought of her and Jess … was that even the conspiracy Jess was talking about? He was as difficult to read as she remembered.

He was silent for a moment, then continued, "So, what have you been reading lately?" he asked innocently, still playing with the candle, avoiding eye contact. Rory blushed, and he looked up in surprise, obviously having noticed her increased discomfort, not expecting that sort of reaction at all. "What?" he asked. "If it's Twilight or … 50 Shades of Grey or something, I think I'd rather not know." Rory shook her head, smiling a little at his retort. "Good. So why the blushing?"

Rory still remained quiet, staring at the table.

"Rory?" he asked, half-laughing.

"I _might_ be re-reading yours."

"Mine?" he asked, his eyebrows disappearing into his hairline – almost as wild as it was when they were teens, once again. He was silent for a moment, staring at her, before he burst into laughter.

"Why are you laughing?" Rory asked, confused.

"Because that's really embarrassing for you," he said when he'd calmed down a little, grinning. "Mine, huh? I'm surprised you're reading it a second time."

It was Rory's turn to laugh. "You think I've only read it twice? I could write a doctorate on _The Subsect_ from memory, Jess." She felt awkward saying this, and she expected Jess to feel awkward too. Instead, he laughed again.

"I would suggest you didn't do that, though. Your doctorate would be worth nothing, and that's an awful lot of work to do for no gain." He smirked, that self-same smirk from so many years ago, and Rory, once again, felt like she was falling through space, with the foreboding feeling that, some second, or another, or the next, she was going to hit, and it was going to hurt.

She shook herself internally, rolling her eyes at him. "You take compliments just about as well as you did at seventeen." His smirk disappeared slowly. "I love your book, Jess. It's one of my favourites. And that's not just because I know you. It's because it's genuinely beautiful writing. It's you on every page."

He shook his head, a sort of bitter smile on his face. "No, it's not _me _on every page, Ror'." His eyes met hers, protracted. He didn't tell her what he meant, but she could guess. It was the same look he'd given her as she'd left Truncheon. She felt sick all of a sudden. How could the same feelings be heating up her skin, after all of this time? Surely he was feeling this too? But watching him beside her, staring at his hands, he just looked unaffected. But Jess was always unaffected until he was mad. Then he couldn't hide the fire. He spoke again as Rory was thinking. "You probably shouldn't waste your time on it, is what I'm saying. Of course, if you like it that much, I have the best present ever for you. I was going to give you it anyway, so that turned out well."

"Give me what?"

"It's in my bag. I'll give you it before I leave," he told her, nodding a little, still not looking at her.

"When is that?"

Jess looked over to Liz, who was now dancing with Doula, Jess' little sister, looking very much like her Mom. "Tomorrow." Rory followed his eye-line.

"Something to get back for?" Rory asked, silently adding the question 'Someone?'; curious, trying to make conversation, trying to steer the conversation further from the uncomfortable territory it had been edging towards moments before. Jess shook his head, looking up at her. His eyes were telling her something, but she couldn't work out what it was.

"Nah. I just … " he struggled, looking away from her, shifting. "I don't belong here. I never have."

Rory frowned, looking over at Liz and Doula, with her dad TJ, and Luke and her Mom, dancing together again. "All your family is here, Jess," she tried carefully.

"Are you counting yourself in that collective? Because _technically_ ..." he joked, smirking. Rory elbowed him gently.

"Am I the only one who finds that sick?" Rory grumbled, not missing that he had glossed over the previous subject entirely. Another long-lived habit.

He half-smiled, half-smirked. Laughingly said, "Sick how?"

"That, _technically, _we're related now?"

"Huh," he said, smirking. "Why would that be sick, Rory?" He was being suggestive, and it made heat rise in her neck again.

Rory struggled, before saying, "Shut up."

He laughed, his eyes scintillating. "You're so eloquent when you're embarrassed," he added sarcastically.

Rory moved on swiftly, earning her a knowing look, but said, "So, is this us 'talking later', then?"

Jess' smirk widened. "No, we'll talk later still. As I said, I was told to come and talk to you. Liz can be very insistent. After all, how else could I have ended up on a bus headed here at seventeen?" Rory was silent for a moment, silently questioning how her life would be if Liz hadn't been so insistent. Less current stress, perhaps. But maybe she would still be with Dean … and would have never taken one risk in her entire life. The thought made her stomach drop. "So … dancing?" he asked again,nodding towards the dance floor.

She didn't follow his train of thought, still lost in her own. "What?"

Jess rolled his eyes and stood up, holding his hand out to her expectantly. "Come on. I know you had at least one fantasy about dancing with me when we were kids. That was the whole point of me going to that stupid Dance Marathon – that and messing with Lurch."

He said that so innocently, without smirking, that Rory didn't understand what he said for a second, staring up at him from her still-seated position. "Uh?" she said unintelligently.

"Are you really just going to deny me openly like this in front of our entire family, cousin?"

"Stop calling me that."

"I will if you dance with me."

"You can dance?" she asked, her brain finally catching up with her mouth.

"No, I thought I'd just stand still in the middle of the dance floor and stare at you while you danced around me. Do you think people will notice?" he replied sardonically. "Of course I can. Why would I ask if I couldn't?"

"I don't know. Liz can be insistent," she said tartly. He smirked a little more at her reply. "You've never danced with me _before_. I can hardly be blamed for my disbelief at the request."

"If I'm honest, I'm a little disappointed that you're so unreceptive to new experiences with me. If you're going to be like that with every activity, there's a _lot_ we haven't done, Ror'. Have an open mind."

There was an undertone of suggestion again, but he said it so lightly that she couldn't pull him up for it – not that she would have anyway. He was acting just the same as they had when they both lived in Stars Hollow. And Rory felt the same as when they had, too.

Truth be told, Rory hadn't had a proper boyfriend since Logan – of course, she'd dated, but travelling so much, it was hard to be in a committed relationship. Not for Rory, of course. She could have, easily. Long-distance, hard though it was, was old hat to her. But she couldn't ask someone else to go through that difficulty for her. Especially since anyone she'd dated since her last year of Yale, she didn't actually want. Not that they weren't nice … They just weren't what she was looking for. Of course, if you asked her _what_ she was looking for, she wouldn't be able to tell you, either. So understandably, feeling like she had when she and Jess had dated was confusing her. Because maybe that's what she wanted.

"Rory?" Her hand found his before she knew that she decided she was going to dance with him. But at his slow, genuine smile, she immediately forgot her shock, and smiled back.

-break-


	2. Chapter 2

The crowd of guests had thinned sometime after midnight, and Rory and Jess had long left the dance floor. In fact, they'd pretty much left the reception, having found a quiet corner in the lobby of the Dragonfly to chat in.

"You can't be serious – you honestly-?"

"Jess, just give them a chance!"

"I'm sorry, but I can never hear that anyone is a touch on The Strokes. Whoever Howler are, they are nothing on Julian Casablancas and Albert Hammond Jr. Guaran_teed_."

Rory was grinning, shaking her head disappointedly at him, laughing a little at his loyalty. "It's NME's suggestion, not mine. Open your mind, Jesse!"

"Please don't call me that," Jess groaned.

"This is worse than The Doors versus Echo & The Bunnymen predicament ..."

"I still stand by my opinion on that cover. The only reason you could be duped into thinking it was okay was because it was used on The Lost Boys soundtrack."

"That's exactly why it's amazing!"

"You're dead to me, Gilmore."

"How will I cope?" she cried sarcastically. He smirked and nudged her with his shoulder lightly. She pushed him back, and he laughed.

"Maybe I'll let you live – if you make it up to me."

"You're going to kill me otherwise?"

"Naturally. Any word against Julian or Jim and I'm obliged to neutralise. You know this better than anyone."

"You're not going to kill me. Think of how dull your life would be without me," she smirked, transporting them back to once upon a drive in their past. She steadied herself, a bubble of nervousness rising up her body with her words.

"Don't underestimate me," he said, recovering quickly from the nostalgia-trip.

"How would I make it up to you, exactly?" Rory asked, laughter still dancing in her eyes as she looked up at his equally mirth-filled ones.

"I'm thinking a Hemingway … The most misogynistic one." Rory laughed at him, but soon her laughter faded, turning serious for a moment. "What?" he asked, catching her change in mood (of course he did. He always did).

"I missed this. Us."

"Us?" he questioned lightly, trying to remove the meaning from the question without fully succeeding.

"The way we used to talk before it got … complicated."

Jess sighed, eventually surrendering his diverting pretence. "We were always complicated."

"It is what it is."

"That assumes it's still in the present tense," he replied, a little banefully.

Rory looked up at him, eyes wide, hurt by his statement. "It's not? We're not friends?"

Jess faltered from his hard edge for a moment, then by the tears in her blue eyes, fell from it completely. He sighed, saying, "You're one of the best friends I've ever had, Rory."

With his honest words, Rory heedlessly threw herself into his arms, burying her head in his chest, knocking Jess backwards a little on the couch they both occupied. After a beat, Jess hugged her back, trying not to think of the last time he'd done so like this. The time period he came up with was sure to ruin the moment.

He buried his nose in her hair, closing his eyes, trying to commit the whole experience to memory. He knew that it would be over soon – she'd pull away embarrassedly, fumbling over excuses and apologising at least ten times. Before that, he wanted to know what it felt like to have her in his arms again. He wanted to feel it to his core. Because he knew it would be short-lived.

-break-

Rory didn't pull away for several minutes. She knew she should, but feeling Jess' arms around her after almost a decade, she couldn't muster up the strength to. His words - his honest, heartfelt words – made her completely lose sense, but her loss of senses wound her up in his arms, and she couldn't argue with her impulses.

Even though she should _always_ argue with her impulses around Jess. She knew that. She did that, normally. But she had felt all her sorrow of not seeing him for so long all at once, and it had been the only thing she could do. The only thing, in that split second, that made sense. And for those which followed. The ache in her chest hadn't ebbed, and his chest against hers was making it hurt less. Even if it was psychosomatic.

Neither dared speak for a long while, but Rory eventually felt it necessary, though didn't pull away. "You're one of my best friends too, Jess." His arms pulled her tighter to his chest, and his hands trailed down her back to her waist.

"I guess we both forgot that somewhere along the way, huh?" he asked seriously, his fingers caressing her back.

"I guess," Rory agreed. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too. For everything. For all – well ..."

"I know. Me too," she told him gently. "Especially Philadelphia." They fell silent again, Rory resting against him. At the back of her mind, Rory knew she should pull away. She knew there would be a rumour going around already about them, having danced at the reception. If they were found like this, it would exacerbate that a lot. But Rory found that she really didn't care. She really … didn't.

After a few more moments, Jess spoke again. "I hate to … ruin this … But I have to ask. I really just … I need to."

Rory pulled away a little, looking up at the consternation on his face. His brows were pulled down, and he wasn't looking at her. "Ask me what?"

He sighed. "You didn't come here with anyone. But that's happened before." Rory caught the lack of question in his words, but knew what he was asking in the subtext. And though she knew what he was asking, she looked up at him, expectant and politely confused, because she couldn't bring herself to answer in case she was wrong. He ran a hand through his hair at her silent reply and continued, "I don't want to say it. It sounds ridiculous. I hated myself when I asked Luke and your Mom, too. I feel like a fucking teenager again," he rasped, frustrated.

"Logan asked me to marry him at graduation from Yale. I didn't say yes," she told him, putting him out of his misery.

He seemed to process this for a few seconds, fury fleetingly flashing in his eyes, but soon said, "And … no-one else …?"

"Nobody of significance since."

Jess nodded silently, watching her. Eventually, he said, "Okay." Rory didn't know what she expected to happen next, but his silence wasn't it. To hide her disappointment, she lay her head back on his chest, and his fingertips trailed up her back comfortingly – knowingly. She felt him sigh, before he quietly whispered into her hair, "She knew I was calling." Tears sprung to her eyes, knowing exactly where his words had come from. The last page of his novel. The end of a soliloquy that had broken Rory's heart every time she read it, because suddenly, there were no characters in the book. No pretence he was hiding behind. It was an unadulterated cry to what happened between himself and Rory, and his admission to loving her. His apology. His heart in written word. "That was the first thing I wrote – that chapter," he told her. "Somewhere between Arizona and Venice Beach, in the Moleskine you got me. In the beginning, it was a letter. But … well, I called." Rory dared not say anything, terrified that he'd stop talking if she did. But she looked up at him. "I didn't send it. I didn't want to hurt you any more than I already had." He swallowed. "And then when I came back to New England, I knew it was too late for an apology. I'd destroyed the only thing but fiction and music that had ever mattered a damn to me."

Rory watched him, sharing the pain he was feeling at reliving their adolescence. She knew that if she spoke, he would stop, but something had to be said anyway. "You should have told me before you left. If you had to leave. I know you had to leave. But if you'd told me … before."

"Would it have changed anything?" he asked rhetorically, pain in his eyes. He shook his head in frustration. "I feel like a teenager again, rehashing all of this."

"I feel twenty-five," she replied, sighing heavily. "I'm feeling every year."

He nodded quietly, closing his eyes and leaning his head back on the back of the couch. After a moment, he spoke again, his voice rough. "I still love you, Ror'." His eyes weren't open, but he was frowning. Rory's breathing stopped for all of three seconds, watching him motionlessly, before her lips traced his for no more than a heartbeat. She pulled away and laid her head on his chest again. His arms tightened around her, pulling her to him as if she were a missing part of his thorax.

-break-

_His fingers laced with hers as he led her to the dance floor, concentrating on nothing but the feeling of her hand in his, and the steps he was taking across the floor. If he'd looked up he would have seen the staring, and if he'd looked back, he would have seen Rory doing exactly the same as him, only a little more focus applied to the 'not tripping' aspect. His heart felt full of blood – which was good, he supposed, but had he ever really been aware of how much blood was in there before? He told himself – no, it's not normal to think about that. But around Rory, nothing ever felt normal. Nothing was ordinary._

_He led her to the far corner of the dance floor, in the hopes of hiding even a little bit. He knew, however, that everybody knew they were there. Babette and Miss Patty would have had it spread around the whole reception in three seconds flat, and everyone would be watching._

_Stopping, he turned to face her, her wide blue eyes intent on him, and he forgot everyone else._

-break-

_She couldn't work out his expression when he turned to look at her. She didn't have time to work it out, either, as he pulled her towards him and placed a hand on her waist. She placed her other hand on his shoulder, biting her lip nervously. He watched her do this, then closed his eyes for a second, before opening them again. _

_She remembered herself and released her lip from her teeth. He'd told her before – when they were together – that he found it difficult to function when she did that. She never really believed him. Not fully._

_The music, played by Lane's band, was something by Blondie, but Rory couldn't really hear which song. She was concentrating too hard on not stepping closer to Jess as they swayed together._

"_Is it possible for you to look any more uncomfortable?" Jess asked lightly, laughing a bit. Rory looked up at him, her face twisting even more. "Oh, there we are," he joked. "I knew you could do it, Ror'." Rory smiled a bit at that. "Now that's better. It's not that bad. Apart from the fact that everyone in Stars Hollow is watching us. _Again_."_

"_You should be used to that by now."_

"_Huh. You know, you'd think I would be? The problem is, I still find it fundamentally psychotic that it happens in the first place."_

_Rory laughed. "That's life in a small town for you."_

"_No wonder I never liked it."_

"_Hey, now. You eventually liked it a little bit. You did come back, remember?"_

"_I didn't come back for the small-town charm, Rory."_

_What he meant hung in the air for a little too long, and eventually he pulled her a little closer, smirking at her apprehension, and continued dancing under the scrutiny of the townsfolk._

-break-

"You disappeared last night," Lorelai accused her daughter the minute she stepped in the door of The Crap Shack.

Rory stumbled out of her room at the sound of her mother's shout, still in pyjamas and still without caffeine at well past noon. "Did I?" she groaned, confused, slumping down at the kitchen table, while Lorelai started the coffee machine.

"With _Jess. _Remember?"

"I didn't disappear. I was there the whole time."

"Until you weren't," her Mom said over the sound of the machine. "You missed Kirk's tearful speech about how Luke wouldn't have time for him any more. To which Mr Luke Gilmore replied -"

"He can't take _your_ name, Mom."

"To which Mr Luke _Gilmore _repliedwith 'I never had time for you, Kirk'."

"You can't just make him take your name."

"I can make him do pretty much anything. He's my husband now. Mwah-ha-haaa," she cackled.

"I wonder if he knew what he was getting himself into," Rory asked.

"Oh, please," her Mom laughed. "He knew exactly what he was getting into," she grinned, making Rory smile. Her Mom passed her a coffee, and, upon taking a sip, was instantly more aware of her surroundings.

"How come you're here? I thought you were leaving for Ireland this afternoon."

"Had to say goodbye to my favourite daughter. And also get the dish on what happened last night," Lorelai winked. "So?"

"Nothing happened. We talked. We danced. I cried. He apologised. I apologised ..."

"So is he here?" her Mom asked, lowering her voice, looking furtively at Rory's childhood bedroom door.

Rory frowned, shaking her head. "Mom," she chastised.

"What? Rory, you've been in love with him for about ten years. Why not?" Rory shrugged, looking at her Mom with lost eyes. "For the first time since … well, ever, nothing's in the way. And you both went home alone?" Lorelai shook her head. "He's going back home today, you know? If he's not already gone."

"He's not. He said he'd say goodbye."

"And his track-record is brilliant on that front," Lorelai said darkly. "Sweetie, if you love him, he's there waiting. He loves you more than I thought possible."

Rory frowned. "Where are you getting this from?"

"Luke. And his Mom. And his book," Lorelai told her, "And him. We've had a few conversations now that he's grown out of his jackass beer-stealing phase." Her Mom rolled her eyes at the memory, taking a sip of her own coffee. "To be honest, hun, I'm worried about you. I want you to be with someone who makes you happy. You've been living alone for so long. Since Logan. Jess will be good to you. He'll love you like you're meant to be loved. He'll make you happy. No settling for my loin-fruit. I got my Diner-man. Now you need yours." Her Mom reached over for her daughter at the end of her monologue, and they hugged across the coffee-cups.

-break-

"Husband!" Lorelai yelled as she opened the door of Luke's, Rory following her quietly behind. "We must go and spread our joy to the Emerald Land!"

Luke, uncharacteristically, grinned at her antics, coming through from the storeroom and kissing her. They were both laughing, and Rory went to sit down at the counter. "Morning, beautiful," Luke greeted. "Morning, Rory."

"Morning, Luke. You better get her on a plane soon, or she'll explode from excitement."

"Coffee?" he asked the two Gilmore's unnecessarily, and they both sat at the counter. "Then we do actually need to go. Need to be at the airport in a few hours. You staying around for a bit, Rory?"

Rory shook her head as she drank from her cup. "No, I'm heading back to New York today."

"New York?" a new voice asked. It jolted Rory, and she looked up. Jess was staring at her from behind the counter, where he'd walked out from behind the curtain. He had on his old Metallica t-shirt on, and it almost made her laugh. But his expression stopped her. "You live in New York," he asked in surprise, rounding on Luke. Luke shrugged.

"You didn't know that?" Lorelai asked, rounding on her husband. "Luke!"

"What? I didn't know whether to tell him. The rules change all the time."

Rory blinked as Jess' gaze returned to her.

"Come on, Luke. We should go pick up the suitcases. Sweetie," Lorelai said, tugging Rory's sleeve to get her attention. Rory turned to her, and smiled, returning her Mom's embrace. "I'll call you when we land. Love you."

Luke hugged her after her Mom let go, and then, clapping Jess on the shoulder, said, "Thanks for coming, Jess. And thanks for being my Best Man. You were great. Don't be a stranger. And don't be a fool. Pass the keys to Lane before you go?"

Jess nodded, giving Luke a small smile. The two left quickly, leaving Jess and Rory staring at each other silently in the empty diner. A few beats, and Jess reached for the carafe to refill Rory's coffee.

"So," he began. "You live in New York?" Rory nodded, looking at him curiously. "You know I moved back there about a month ago? I opened Truncheon's satellite book store." Rory shook her head silently. Jess was quiet for a moment, just watching her, his arms straight out and leaning against the counter across from her. Then, he spoke again. "I still haven't given you your present," he told her. Rory looked at him blankly, still shocked by the fact that he lived in New York. "Come on, then," he said, beckoning her to follow him upstairs.

Once in the apartment above the diner, Jess started rummaging through his duffel on the bed that had been his as a teen, Rory standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, watching him silently. Finally, he came up with a book. He handed it to her, smirking.

She looked down at the grey cover. "_Still_ by ..." She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "You wrote another book."

"Did I?" he asked, grinning. "Oh yeah, so I did." He grinned even wider, flipping open the first few pages while the book was still in her hands. Rory looked down while he watched her, and read the dedication.

_'Nothing felt possible until I met one bibliophilic, audiophilic, pop-culture-philic girl._

_I love you. I love you. Only you. Always you._

_Dodger.'_

"So, you living in New York has thrown up some options, Gilmore," he told her, watching as tears filled her eyes as she stared at the page in front of her. "And it's given us a bit of freedom, for a change."

"Freedom?" she choked.

"Well, for a start, it solves an awful lot of my hang-ups about doing what I'm about to do," he told her, smirking slightly, closing the book, making Rory look up at him.

"What you're about to do?" Rory asked in confusion, tears still clinging to her eyelashes.

He stepped closer to her, nervously, and reached out to stroke her hair. Her eyes found his, and watched as he steadied himself in the close contact with her. After all, it had been so long since it had been anything but friendly. His eyes were burning as his mouth hovered over hers for what felt like an age.

Rory was instantly reminded of _This Side of Paradise_, by F. Scott Fitzgerald - '_There is a moment—Oh, just before the first kiss, a whispered word—something that makes it worth while.'_ So she whispered, "Dodger."

And then his mouth was on hers. Searingly. They both frayed at the edges instantly and lost themselves – tongues and hands and hair and pressure and heat. His eyes, burning black gold, met hers and his lips descended once more, pulling her in, pressing her to his body.

"I love you," he bit out, his mouth on her throat as he held her against him. "I love you," he repeated. "'I love you' is nothing on what I'm feeling." He swallowed, pulling away to look at her. "Rory," he said, trying to translate through his eyes. She smiled, tears still glittering in her eyes, placing her lips softly on his again.

She pulled away, saying against his ear, "I love you too, Jess." He kissed her again, before pulling away with the most genuine smile she'd ever seen him wear, his crooked mouth completely beautiful to her.

"Hey," he said, grazing his fingertips along her collarbone and brushing her hair to the side. "So you liked the dedication?" he asked against the skin of her neck.

Tearing a little again, she managed to say "Jess," but could continue no further, wanting to tell him again that she loved him, but she was lost for words, tears finally sliding down her cheeks. He looked up at her, his face serious again. He kissed away her tears, holding her against him.

"Gilmore, you have no idea," he replied, answering her undeclared sentiment, kissing her hair softly.

-end-


End file.
